


dumb kids

by inkk



Series: patience [1]
Category: Bandom, Guns N' Roses
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Forests, M/M, Teenagers, axl is emotionally constipated, duff is a good boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-06 15:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16835779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkk/pseuds/inkk
Summary: Duff lets himself look over, unable to help the way his mouth curves up into a pleased smile. “Hey yourself,” he says. “You’re late again.”(a forest. a bridge. a clandestine reunion.)





	dumb kids

**Author's Note:**

> i decided i wanted to write, so... i wrote? funny how that works. this might honestly be the quickest i’ve ever written and published anything in my entire life.  
> massive thanks to [nat](http://loveislikeabomb.tumblr.com) for co-creating this entire AU at the drop of a hat, and also for letting me yell about Guns at all hours of the day! bless u ♥️  
> title from the song by AFI. no warnings apply here. obviously, nothing is true and none of it happened.

+

Duff hunches his shoulders and tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he walks down the narrow path, dead leaves crunching under the soles of his shiny oxfords. The air hangs heavy with the smell of autumn; decomposing leaves and damp earth, the first bite of chill in the air pinkening his cheeks.

It’s only slightly after six P.M. and the sun won’t be setting for another hour or so yet, but it’s dimmer here within the confines of the forest. The trees around him arch overhead, bare arms reaching solemnly up into the pale grey sky, but he keeps his eyes forward, scanning his surroundings as he reaches the end of the path. It’s quiet save for the sound of his own breathing.

There’s a small bridge here, with cherry-red painted planks rising in a gentle curve over a rock-lined dip in the ground below; Duff can imagine the river that used to run through here, but it’s been bone-dry and left deserted as long as he can remember. He pauses only slightly before continuing forward, still looking around, and makes his way to the centre of the bridge.

A sparrow calls from the bank to his right side. The wood of the railing is worn smooth beneath his fingertips, cool and almost soft to the touch as he runs his fingers along it until he comes to the series of grooves carved into the plank.

He checks his the time on his phone and then slides it back into his pocket, casting a self-conscious glance to either side as he looks down and slowly traces the curves of the heart and matching initials incised into the wood. 6:11 P.M.

Duff shivers and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He wishes he had brought his jacket with him, as opposed to the long-sleeve button-down and navy blue school uniform sweater he has on now, but tutoring had gone late and he hadn’t had the time to change.

Another few minutes pass. Duff shifts restlessly in the eerie silence of the forest, sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve.

6:18 P.M. Late again.

He pushes down the worry.

_Maybe he got caught up at work. Maybe his mom needed him at home. Maybe his car broke down. Maybe--_

The sparrow trills again, echoing in the open air. This time, a beat passes before a response sounds from the other side of the bank, and with it comes the familiar sound of heavy boots on gravel - quick and sure.

Duff tries not to let his relief show too plainly on his face as the footsteps draw closer. He keeps his head bowed, holding back the giddy, eager feeling in favour of feigning a casually impassive expression.

“Hey,” the voice comes from his left.

Duff lets himself look over, unable to help the way his mouth curves up into a pleased smile. “Hey yourself,” he says. “You’re late again.”

Axl ducks his head, walking the last couple steps until they’re standing side-by-side. “Steven messed up the lumber inventory again and I had to stay a couple minutes over to fix it,” he grouses.

“It’s alright,” Duff tells him, easy as always, “I’m only teasing.”

“Still.” Axl gives a little shrug, scuffing the toe of his boot against the railing, “Got here fast as I could.”

“Yeah?” Duff grins wider, raising his eyebrows.

“‘Course,” Axl rolls his eyes, “Wanted to see you.” He nudges their shoulders together. “Dork. We haven’t gotten to be alone for a long-ass time, not after your ma put you back on lockdown.”

Duff huffs a small, apologetic sigh and angles his body to face Axl. “She just needs a few more days to cool down, I think,” he finally says. Softer, he adds, “She worries. Especially since I’m the youngest.”

Axl nods and shoves his hands into the pockets of his oversized flannel jacket, not meeting Duff’s eyes. “I know. Just sucks sometimes that we can’t even talk at school.”

It’s quiet for a second. A gentle breeze sweeps through the trees, making Duff suppress a shiver as Axl’s hair drifts in the wind.

“I missed you too, y’know,” Duff finally says, shifting closer. “It’s been an awfully uneventful week without any midnight visits or detentions. And not one single football player got punched in the face, either. I was starting to get bored.”

“Yeah?” Axl cocks his head in question, but there’s an amused smile tugging at his lips as he raises his hands to rest on Duff’s hips all the same.

Duff nods, mock-serious, but the smile is still twitching at his lips. “I actually handed in some homework early for a change. It was horrible.”

Axl narrows his eyes, thumbs hooking into his belt loops to tug him closer. “Big baby.”

“Shut up, you like me,” Duff says.

“I think _you_ like _me_ ,” Axl retorts with a good-natured smirk.

Duff feels his cheeks flush. “And where does that leave us?”

Axl tilts his chin up. “Put your money where your mouth is and land one on me, McKagan.”

Duff blushes harder. He quickly stoops to peck Axl on the lips, then tries again, lingering.

One of Axl’s hands drifts up to his jaw. His nose is cold where it brushes against Duff’s, but his body is warm and familiar, bulky coat carrying the smell of sawdust and that one specific kind of deodorant he always wears. It’s comforting. Safe.

Axl’s frame is familiar in how it fits against his own, and for a minute, it’s easy for Duff to forget about AP chemistry and due dates and his mother’s disapproval; nothing matters except the two of them, standing there in the trees together.

“Not a bad way to make up for a six-day break,” Axl murmurs once they finally break apart. His eyes are lazy and pleased when he breathes a laugh and adds, “Guess you really did miss me after all, huh?”

“Always,” Duff replies, unable to stop his grin as he pushes his glasses back up his nose. “You wanna go get food?”

“Sure,” Axl agrees. “What time do I have to drop you off?”

“Eight,” Duff’s face slips into a reluctant frown. “It’s not long, but we better not push it this time. Ma’s already itching to install bars on my window as it is. I told her I’d be doing that biology project with Izzy, so if she finds out…” he trails off in uncertainty.

“‘S’okay sugar,” Axl smirks, “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Duff abruptly feels his cheeks heat. “That’s not what I meant,” he mumbles with a self-conscious laugh, averting his gaze to the polished toes of his shoes.

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” Axl assures him. “Don’t worry — home by 8, no rumpled clothes. Mama McKagan won’t suspect a thing.”

“A gentleman, huh?” Duff asks. “Didn’t know that word even existed in your vocabulary. You’ve never dropped me off on time in your entire life.”

Axl rolls his eyes once more, grabbing Duff’s hand with a fondly exasperated expression. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon, angel boy, let’s go. I’m dying for a milkshake.”

+

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> feel free to come find me on tumblr @[shotgunmessiahs](http://shotgunmessiahs.tumblr.com)
> 
> ...and keep an eye out for the rest of this series, cause we’ve got Big Stuff in the works!


End file.
